We have been married for eight years now. During these years we have been through so much together that it would be enough for several families, only God forbid they go through all the problems we faced.
We met Erik purely by chance, he helped me to drag a bag from the bus stop with the things from the dry cleaners, on the way we got to talking, exchanged phone numbers and started dating.
We came to the wedding about six months later, but this, important for any man, the celebration we had to postpone several times. Erik brother was in a car accident, and needed money for surgery, then my family had one sad event after another, and in between funerals and funeral feast was somehow inappropriate to dress up in a snow-white dress and put on his head veil.
After months of relative calm, we finally breathed a sigh of relief and decided to get married. Our friends found out about it, and out of the best of intentions, they offered us a kind of “insurance” by getting married not in their town but in their place, in a small town on the coast. They promised us a house by the sea as a wedding gift, and we couldn’t refuse such a great offer.
We went and got married, but literally three days later we went through another black hole. My husband wanted to surprise me by jumping off a cliff into the water. The jump failed, he severely injured his spine, and ended up in the hospital. I don’t want to describe and remember the three years I spent getting him back on his feet. I gave it my all, almost did not sleep, learned how to do massages, stretches, a bunch of other manipulations with the joints and spine, but we won. My husband was back on his feet, back to his old job.
Our business went up, we bought an apartment, built a summer cottage, everything was going well. I lack one thing – a child. For some reason Erik believes that you can have a baby even after forty, but in the meantime you need to create a “safety cushion” financially and live for yourself.
He is not greedy at all, ready to buy me anything I point my finger at, but my husband and I do not find a common language with the baby, and now we even started to have periodic conflicts about it.
I don’t know how I can convince my husband that the baby, and not just one, is not my whim or caprice. It’s just the way it has to be, a family can’t be complete without children.
All of my friends have become mothers long ago, and I am envious of how they walk with baby carriages, take their children to kindergarten, meet them from school…
Our house is a full bowl, but it has no children’s cries, no toys, our affluent and busy life does not include care for those tiny little people who come into the world from the great love of two adults. My husband does not understand this, and continues to insist on the addition to the family in the distant forty years to come…
